Travis and Marty
by Bhge
Summary: A spirited traveler exploring the land of Ooo comes across a village haunted by an ancient evil. Curious, he stays to investigate. Loosely inspired by Rick and Morty and Doctor Who! Plus, as I don't think he's among the options for the character slot, another character who will be making an appearance is a younger Martin Mertens. Will become part of a series as soon as I write more
1. Are You a Hero, Mr Travis?

**_He's so small and weepy. I don't like him_**.

 _You don't like anyone. Now be quiet, he's got something for us._

Travis's hands fidgeted to themselves with the air of being at once ravenously excited as well as exasperatedly impatient. The small human at his feet was attempting between sobs of terror to say something, but any words that escaped him were quickly swallowed up by hiccups and terrified hiccuping.

 _ **Heh heh, it'd be almost funny if it weren't so pathetic.**_

 _Shush._

He knelt down on one knee until he was at the small man's level. Clearing his throat, he haltingly attempted what was supposed to be a reassuring hand on the shoulder, but the uncertainty and shakiness of the gesture simply came off as awkward and insincere. The farmer didn't seem to notice it, and simply continued sobbing into his arms on the ground.

"Um, hello old fellow. Need some help?" Travis asked before turning to the young lady beside him and mouthing, _I need a little help_.

She started. "Oh yes, of course, let me help. Here now, Barty old boy, pull yourself together. That's it, come on now, nothing like a little cup of tea to soothe your nerves. Come inside, and I'll fix you some."

With that, she hoisted the old man up over her shoulders and carried him into the cottage.

Travis waited outside, tapping his feet and whistling idly.

 _ **I like her. What say we go and-**_

 _No._

 _ **Oh come on, I was just going to suggest a simple drink! Something casual, nothing too fussy or serious necessarily, heh heh. Maybe a pint of beer or whatever alcoholic beverage they have here. Ale? What's the difference between ale and beer, come to think of it, I could never tell them apart. Anyway, I'm just talking about a chance to get to know her, you know?**_

 _For the last time, no._

 _ **Oh but why not? You like her, don't you?**_

Travis's knuckles tightened on his walking stick, and the tempo of his foot-tapping increased ever so slightly.

 _You know exactly why. Now shut up._

 _ **Ooh-wee, why so defensive, Travis? Simmer down, boy! It was merely a suggestion! Do what you will! After all, you are the boss around here…**_

"Sir? Traveler, you can come in too, sir. Join us for tea!"

Travis looked up. "Oh, yes ma'am, thank you!"

With a good-natured smile, he ducked his head into the dingy cottage.

The room was dimly yet warmly lit, with a merry crackling fireplace in the corner, and a little table laden with tea and assorted biscuits. There was a gentle, wholesome scent of pinewood suffused throughout the air.

 _ **I hate this place.**_

Barty had calmed down a little, and was now nursing a cup of tea in his slightly trembling hands.

Travis straightened up, setting his walking stick by the door and whisking his hat off with an air of exuberance before turning to the farmer across the table with an attentive smile, hands behind his back.

"So, friend, what happened?"

Barty looked up from his tea to glare darkly at him.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh don't mind him, sir, he's a little shy with strangers is all," said the young lady, stepping out of the kitchen with a tray of cookies in her hands.

Setting them down, she brushed her hands on her apron.

"Apprenticing under a sorcerer would do that to anyone. You'd be suspicious too if you'd seen the things Barty has. But he's a good soul; he won't bite. Please, sir, take a seat."

Travis's eyebrows shot up as he strode forward and seated himself on a small stool, "Ah, a sorcerer's apprentice, eh? Now that's impressive. What can you do, eh Barty?"

She wordlessly turned away to face Barty and made a sound akin to the clucking of a chicken. Barty responded with a guttural belch and a fart that reverberated all throughout the room. Still smiling, Travis's eyebrows arched quizzically.

"Well that was unexpected."

The woman nodded solemnly before slo-owly poking a finger into Barty's cheek.

Barty responded by smashing his head against the table twice and then sneezing fifty-seven times, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

Travis glanced between the two of them, facial muscles seemingly frozen in his state of confusion.

The woman's neck twisted, and her eyes rolled up as she began muttering the names of several different kinds of pastries to herself.

Finally, she responded with a head-smash of her own before turning to Travis with an alarmed expression.

Travis stared. The dust settled.

 _Nothing new under the sun, they said. Ha._

"Who are you, traveler?" she demanded, suddenly. Travis started, startled.

"Oh, well I'm a…traveler! I travel. It's sort of what I do. I'm Travis. Travis the traveler. See what I did there? The alliteration? I came up with it myself, actually, you like it?"

He flashed a smile.

She stared at him unblinkingly.

"Are you a hero, Mr. Travis?"

At this, Travis's smile faltered.

"W-well, um ahem do you need one?" he asked, twiddling his fingers.

She leaned forward. Travis followed suit.

"Barty is telling me that he has sensed a dark presence enter into this village recently, darker than anything he's ever seen before; an ancient evil, with a spirit of horrible malevolence and chaos. We have no knights or dashing heroes here, we haven't had any in a long time. Would you help?"

Travis's mouth opened, but no sound came out, sans a high-pitched whining noise. The woman looked worried.

"He told you all that by sneezing fifty-seven times?" he stuttered finally.

She nodded assent.

"T-that's incredible. What kind of magic do you specialize in, eh Barty?"

Barty cast him a sideways glance before turning back to the lady and letting out a belch of such tremendous magnitude it shook the entire cottage.

"What's that one mean?" Travis asked nervously.

She closed her eyes in deep thought for a few moments.

"Barty wants you to stay behind in this village for tonight, and hunt down the evil before you leave. If you can, that is," she glanced up, "Will you do it?"

 _ **Oh look at that, Travis. She wants you to stay and help fight a ferocious beast! Ha! What fun! This is going to be a doozy, Travis, I can feel it! Plus we'll get to stay here longer, stick around a little. Maybe even chum it up with some of the locals here, buy her a drink maybe, heh heh heh…**_

 _Real subtle. But no. Chances are the ferocious beast Barty's sensed is just-_

 _ **Ah ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Why so cynical, Travis? Is that the attitude of a true adventurer? Brave heart now, Travis. We'll find this beastie, alright! And when we do, we'll skin it alive, drain it of its lymphatic fluid, and strangle it to death with its own intestines! HA! It'll be the best fun we've had all year!**_

 _No…_

Travis's face seemed to fluctuate across a variety of different expressions, before it formed an unnaturally enormous grin, and he suddenly arose with a double thumbs-up.

"Yes I'll do it, milady! Fear not, young lass, everything will be just fine!"

She blinked.

Barty screeched.

Clearing her throat, she smiled.

"O-oh thank you, brave traveler! You may reside here in my humble residence until we can find more fitting accommodations for our very own hero-"

"Oh no thank you, this is plenty already. I'm used to simply dozing off in a small lean-to, so this is already impeccable luxury for me! Thank you for all services rendered!"

With that, he leapt onto his feet, balancing precariously on the stool before leaning backward and stepping back out of the doorway, snatching up his walking stick and hat.

Her muffled voice sounded from inside after him, "Thank you brave sir! And good luck!"

 _What have you done._

 _ **Relax, Travis. It'll be fun.**_


	2. The Young Farmer

A young farmer lad was woken in the night by an incessant knocking on his roof.

Grabbing a torch, he rushed outside, cursing irritably.

"Hey, you there! You on the roof! It's night-time already, and some of us are trying to get some slee-ulp."

He gulped.

A thin, lanky figure clad in a tall top hat and long coat stood atop his roof, silhouetted against the bright full moon. In his hands, clasped, was a bizarre apparatus, a strange mess of spinning wheels and vents that occasionally belched out dark crimson gases.

He appeared to be muttering vehemently at it, "Come on, come on, come on, anything?! Nothing?! Well that's just dull."

The farmer lad squinted his eyes against the moonlight.

"Mr. Travis?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you on my rooftop?"

"No reason. Go back to bed."

"Are you looking for it?"

"Looking for what?"

The boy steadily shuffled closer.

"The ghoul?"

The figure glanced down at him.

"No one ever said it was a ghoul…"

He leapt down from the roof, landing spryly on his feet in the soft grass. He straightened up to his full height and leaned close into the boy's face.

"Hm…are you a ghoul, young farmer lad?"

"No sir."

"Good. You know what I'd have to do with ghouls, don't you?"

"No sir?"

"You don't?! Oh you don't?! Well let me enlighten you!"

He leaned in closer, his shadow looming over the boy, and his smiling face close enough for the boy to see the moonlight glimmering off his teeth.

He spoke in a deep, guttural whisper, "I put them to sleep."

The boy stood, silent.

"I assume you mean kill them, right?"

"Really? You're not even like a little bit unnerved?"

The boy shrugged.

"Were you trying to be scary, Mr. Travis?"

"A little."

"Well I mean it just kind of came off as ham-fisted, Mr. Travis."

"Oh," he said sarcastically, straightening, "I'm so cool. Look at me, I'm mister farm boy, and _I'm_ not afraid of _anything_. _I_ just want to frolic about at midnight with my best buddy Mr. Travis, who I haven't met before, oh sixty seconds ago. I'm mister farm boy. I'm a little monkey..."

"Right, that's just a bit odd, Mr. Travis."

"…I'm so cool, WHOOPS I'm standing out here in my nightie!"

"It's not a nightie, it's pajamas! Girls wear nighties."

"Yeah I know, I just wanted to try shaming you. Denying the masculinity of adolescent boys like you usually does the trick. Get 'em off my back, you know? Oh well," he sighed.

He swept his coattails behind him and sat on a large rock, crossing his long spindly legs.

"Well seeing that you're not going anywhere, and I'm not going anywhere, what's your name, mister farmer boy?"

"Marty. Marty Mertens."

"And what do you want to be when you grow up, Marty Mertens?"

"Oh, I dunno, Mr. Travis. My whole family's been in the cabbage-harvesting industry for as long as the records show. I don't really feel I have a choice in the matter. My role is to till the fields, learn how to hunt, start a family, and then teach _them_ to till the fields. Who am I to contradict my socially predestined role in the world? The fields must produce so that the people can be happy. And if I for any reason choose to migrate away without producing young first, I would take with me a potentially infinite number of individuals and generations that would continue tilling and plowing the farms for their own generations, and the generations after that. What kind of a socially irresponsible member of the village would I be if I chose to do such a thing? I'd be leaving my fellow villagers with a great gap in the work force, an unfillable void. It was the same thing when Barty first left with that strange sorcerer, my grandmother told me. No matter how much the villagers attempt to reproduce, there would always be that lingering question on their minds, 'what if Marty hadn't left? We would be raising at least one extra member of the work force. What a shameful act that would be."

The soft rhythm of crickets chirping was the only sound to be heard for a moment.

"Well…um…that was unexpected."

"Mhm."

"Second time I've said that in the last twenty-four hours actually. This village never ceases to surprise me. But for goodness's sake, Marty, don't you ever have any dreams? Haven't you ever looked up at the stars and wondered what lies beyond? Haven't you ever gazed at the misty, snowy mountains in the distance and sought to see what lies beyond? To see what none in your village have ever seen before? To walk where none have ever walked, and to drink of foreign rivers in strange lands? Don't you ever wake up one day, see the old field you've tilled endlessly for the last fourteen years of your life, and just wish there'd be something new? The world is wide, mysterious, frightening even sometimes, and yet at once so beautiful, so filled with life and wonders and secrets just waiting to be uncovered! So you know what I say? Go forth! Go forth and explore! Save princesses, fight dragons, and defend towns! Travel! Arise from your village and truly live life! Go forth!"

Travis gestured enthusiastically with wide, grandiose motions.

"That sounds like a very mean thing to do to your village, Mr. Travis."

His arms dropped.

"Oh well, you'll come around," he muttered, picking up the strange apparatus and twisting a few knobs. The machine tooted, and a cloud of green gas drifted out.

"Aha! Perfect!"

He leapt to his feet.

"What is it, sir?"

"It's my flatuloculus! It toots whenever it sees something!"

"Sees something?"

"Exactly! It's a cybernetic organism made of telescopic cameras, cow rectums, and a smidge of demon blood: the perfect evil-tracking device!"

"Wait what? That makes absol-"

"Shut up, Marty! We've got work to do you and me!"

"Wha- _we_?!"

"Of course, I'm not just leaving you here with a bleak world view like that! Come on, lets go _do_ something! Get your blood pumping and your fists a-swinging! This'll be fun! Come along!"

With that, the tall, lanky traveler went bounding off into the night, shrieking with excitement. Marty stood awhile in thought before racing after him too.

"Mr. Travis what are we looking for?!"

"A ghoul, Marty! We're looking for a ghoul!"

"I thought you said it wasn't a ghoul!"

"Stop putting words in my mouth, Marty, it's unhygienic! I'd simply asked, 'Who said it was a ghoul' because you suggested it first!"

"Wha- I don't understand, Mr. Travis!"

"Never mind! And heeeere we go!"

They dashed into a clearing of tall grass.

"(Ow) what's next, Mr. Travis?"

"Oh, you know. Just some ol' Ghoul-trapping business! The flatuloculus has some good whiffs here. Apparently, our ghoul comes around here quite often, at around precisely midnight-"

"So is that 'around midnight' or 'precisely midnight'?"

"No no no, it's 'around precisely midnight'. Pay attention, Marty."

"But that's what I'm asking, I mean what does that even mean?"

"Now? You want to talk about this now? While we're waiting on a cannibalistic ghoul?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Oh hey, is it cannibalism if we aren't ghouls, Mr. Travis?"

"…Shut up, Marty."

 ** _HA, he got ya there, Travis. I like him._**

 _I like him too, but you give him too much credit._

Travis twirled on the spot and shoved the flatuloculus into his voluminous coat.

"Now we set up a salt pentacle trap. Here, I want you to take this," he reached into his pockets again and pulled out an enormous glass ring filled with what appeared to be water, "and put it right over there. You got it?"

"HOW DID YOU EVEN FIT THAT INTO YOUR POCKET?!"

"It's magic! Well, actually if we're being completely honest (which no one ever is, by the way), it's a highly advanced form of science that simply defies your somewhat limited understanding. Anyone who says it's magic and believes it is usually an idiot."

He paused in a moment of strange, reminiscent, somewhat mournful quietness, a faint smile on his face.

Marty grunted a little as he rolled the large ring over and set it down in the long grass.

"Okay, there it goes! Anything else?"

"Hm? Oh yes, sorry. Take this little pouch of firedust and just sprinkle it on the top of the saltwater ring. Mind you don't cover the little porous holes on it by the way. Permeable only to steam! Made it myself!"

 ** _No you didn't._**

 _Please, I've got bigger things to worry about than her right now._

"S-so, how is this going to trap the ghoul, Mr. Travis?"

"Oh simple, we'll wait in the bushes for dear Mr. Ghoul to come frolicking about, and when he's in the circle, we strike the firedust and boil away the water inside the ring! That way, the ghoul will be trapped in our little ring of salt! Brilliant, huh?!"

 _"_ _It would be, if I hadn't heard all of that."_

"Marty, your voice sounds all guttural and phlegmy, you ought to get that checked out."

"MR. TRAVIS, BEHIND YOU!"


	3. Encounter

"That way, the ghoul will be trapped in our little ring of salt! Brilliant, huh?!"

Marty nodded, smiling to himself as he rearranged the tube. Mr. Travis was so clever. He always had such brilliant and inspired tools, and such unnecessarily convoluted ideas. Maybe, life outside the village could be…

A growling, gurgly voice croaked, _"It would be, if I hadn't heard all of that."_

Marty looked up, alarmed. Looming behind Mr. Travis's thin frame was a horned creature with piercingly luminous green eyes clad in a torn cloak.

"Marty, your voice sounds all guttural and phlegmy, you ought to get that checked out."

Marty's breath quickened, he scrambled to his feet and yelled.

"MR. TRAVIS, BEHIND YOU!"

Starting, Travis whirled about, finding himself face-to-face with a leering skull.

"….Oh. Hello, there," he cleared his throat nervously, stepping back slowly.

A dark aura seemed to emanate from the tall figure, and Marty felt sick to his stomach.

"Well, heh heh. On the bright side, at least you aren't a ghoul," Travis giggled nervously.

The creature leaned closer, and let out a rasping hiss.

 _"_ _Believe me, little man, I am much much worse than a ghoul…"_

"Oh, I believe it…ooooh I believe it," Travis said hesitantly, now stepping around the skeletal creature carefully.

 _"…_ _I am the breaker of worlds, the breather of death. I have existed since before the dawn of reality, and I will continue to exist long after the last star has winked out of existence. I am the Lich."_

At this, Travis stopped.

 _"_ _Now hear me, finite mortal. I tolerate no-"_

"No."

The creature cocked its head, puzzled.

 _"_ _No?"_

"No! All wrong! One, the Lich doesn't sound like that, he sounds somewhat more akin to Ron Perlman. Second, the "breaker of worlds" is not the Lich's title; it's some other fellow's. I can't really remember him off the top of my head, but yeah, nope. Not the Lich. And that's kind of a crucial point, don't you think?"

The creature was silent.

Travis grinned, "How's your feline friend doing? Still trapped in a half-demon?"

Marty gazed in awe. The creature seemed to be melting into itself! It shuddered and rocked back and forth before remolding itself into a significantly smaller form.

Travis knelt down to its level. "Yeah, Hierophant still does it better. Or did. He's dead too, actually."

"Enough!" the creature snapped in a remarkably high-pitched squeak, "You got me!"

Marty's eyebrows rose. The creature's actual voice was far less threatening: diminutive and whining.

Travis bit back a chuckle, "Yeeeah, hello to you too. But more importantly, Mr. Bloodlurker, what are you doing here in this village?"

The impish vampire grimaced. "Getting food, of course! Why else would I be staying here in a dump like this?"

"Yeah, it is on the dull side," Travis said, nodding meaningfully at Marty.

"Hey!" Marty frowned.

"No it really is, boy," the small pale man protested, a finger in the air, "Travis isn't being mean. Your village is by far the dullest and least interesting feeding ground I've been to all my life. And seeing that I'm basically immortal, that's really saying something."

Travis nodded, "It's reeeally bad."

Marty sputtered, "Alright what's going on now, Mr. Travis? We come here hunting a ghoul, we meet the Lich, and n-now what, are we just taking turns laughing at my home?"

"Yes!" Travis and the vampire enthused simultaneously.

"Fine! I'm out of here! You know I put up with you and your jabs at my way of life for the past-"

"Ten minutes?"

"Yeah! And and, I'm not going to just stand and take it! I-I'm going back home, Mr. Travis! And don't expect me to ever come back either! Good bye!"

With that, he turned and stormed off.


	4. The Bloodlurker Strikes

"Ha, call my village boring will you? Well what do you do, Mr. Travis huh? You just go dancing around everywhere like a…like a maniac! Completely antisocial," Marty grumbled to himself as he pushed through the tall grass.

A howl of pain rang out.

He stopped.

"….Ehm….maybe that wasn't him? Could be anyone at this hour, right? Heh, why it's only…midnight….in a secluded forest…could be anyone..?"

Another howl, followed by, "MARTYYYYYYYY!"

"Oh Glob. I'M COMING, MR. TRAVIS, SIR!"

He turned around and charged back into the thicket.

"MR. TRAVIS! MR. TRAVIS I'M HERE!"

He crashed through the grass into the clearing, tripping over and sliding on his face a few meters.

"OUCH."

He blearily turned about, wincing a little. Travis was prostrate on the floor, clutching his head protectively when he looked up.

"Marty! Thank Glob you're here! That stinking vampire Bloodlurker! He got the drop on me!"

Marty groaned as he got to his feet.

"Weren't you two like good friends a minute ago?"

"Yes, it was all part of his diabolical plan to lure me into a false sense of security! His plan was to chat me up and then nail me in the neck when I least expected it! But I survived, Marty. Because I'm a real man, Marty. I'm a man!"

Marty looked about wildly, "Is he still here?! Mr. Travis, is he still here?!"

"No, he ran off. But it's much bigger than we anticipated, Marty. Much bigger! It's not just him, there's a whole coven of them hiding out here somewhere! We've gotta stop them, Marty! Or they'll kill everything that bleeds in this village!"

"Oh no! Not the cows!"

Travis stared.

"I-I'm not just talking about cows, Marty. There's a whole village of people down there that are in some very real danger right now! Now Marty, I'm gonna need you to focus," he pulled Marty close and stared him down, "Do you have any garlic? At all? Any garlic? Yes? No? Maybe?"

"Y-yeah I know where we have garlic, Mr. Travis! I c-can get it!"

"Good good, we'll need garlic, wooden stakes, and – oh I dunno, a pony? D-d-does that scan? Do we have ponies?"

"Yeah, we have ponies! Uh, why do we need ponies?!"

"Bait!"

"BAIT?! Aw jeez, I don't know if I can do that, Mr. Travis! Horses are really hard to come by, and the villagers won't be happy and the chief might kill me and they really need their horses, Mr. Travis this is terrible I'm going to die without reproducing first what is life what is existence do I exist how can I tell-"

"Marty calm down!"

He pulled away to smack Marty across the face.

"Marty! I said calm down!"

Smack!

"Stay calm, Marty!"

Smack!

"I said calm down, Marty!"

Smack!

"Marty, calm down!"

"Okay okay I'm calm!"

"Not calm enough!"

Smack!

"That's better. Now the good news is that if all goes according to plan, the horse will never come to harm, so you can rest at ease about that. Now, find me a cow too."

"…"

"Are you unconscious?"

"…"

"Well that's just great."

Travis sighed noisily and draped Marty's unconscious body over his shoulders before marching back toward the village.


	5. Concerning Livestock

The village people gathered around the podium, murmuring worriedly to each other.

Tapping on the microphone, Travis stepped up and cleared his throat.

"Good morning, villagers! I bring good news and bad news today, about my investigations last night. The good news is, I found the threat to be a coven of vampires!"

The villagers gasped in horror.

"I know that doesn't sound like very good news, but come on. At least we know what we're up against now. Now the bad news is, I will require a pony, a sheep, a runt piglet, and a cow for further studies. _Can we handle that_?"

The villagers roared in outrage.

"Okay, clearly not. In that case, I shall simply leave you to your vampire problem. Toodles!"

The villagers protested, and a resounding "NO NO NO NO" burst forth from the crowd.

"I thought not. Come now, hand over the livestock. I promise that if all things go according to plan, no harm will come to them."

The villagers shuffled nervously.

The chief, a deep-chested, somewhat scruffy man, stepped onto the podium with him.

"It will be done. Our village requires security above all else. You will have your animals by sundown."

"Ehhh….could we possibly make that this afternoon?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Meeting adjourned! Villagers, return to your work!"

The crowd quickly dispersed, continuing to murmur nervously. The chief left wordlessly, offering only a rousing slug on the shoulder to Travis before stepping down the podium and disappearing into his house.

Only Marty was left, a little bruised on the cheek but smiling with relief nonetheless.

"You did it, Mr. Travis!"

"Yes," he said, jumping down from the podium, "yes I did. Now, since we won't have the animals until sundown, we'll just have to start setting up the traps first. The vampires will be coming in a little before midnight, so that still leaves us a little time to prepare."

"Right!" Marty smiled widely, "what do we need to do?"

Travis glanced at his fob watch before licking his finger and holding it up in the air.

"The small fellow we met last night, that was Bloodlurker. A shapeshifter. Vicious little cretin. But if he's here, you'll also need to know a few other names and profiles. Hemogoblin (I'm not even kidding) is a gnarled-looking one, has a twisted nose, eyelids that close the wrong way, and pointed ears. He's their spell master. Don't let him cast anything on you. He hasn't got too many weaknesses, although he does have an acute allergy to getting stabbed through the chest by a wooden stake."

"Um…"

"The next one, Arachnovore, is a spidery one. Like literally, he's a spider-centaur thing. _Don't_ get yourself caught in its webs, they _will_ stick worse than glitter. He has a strategic vulnerability to getting stabbed right up the arse by a wooden stake."

"What?!"

"Bugs are anatomically different from us: their hearts are located in the lower segment of the body, so you'll need to stab. Its. Arse. Got it?"

"Yes…"

"Next, and the biggest one yet, Crimson Racer. I think he was some sort of marathon runner before he got turned, 'cause he's gotta trickier power: superspeed. When you see him, he'll only look like a blur. Thankfully, he wears goggles that glow bright red in the dark to look cool. When you see them, don't be intimidated: get him in the eyes. Without 'em, he'll probably careen into a tree and knock himself unconscious. That's when you exploit _his_ remarkable allergy to wooden stakes through the chest."

"Okay…"

"Also, bring me a large bowl of spaghetti. Extra garlicky. Need it for the trap."

"Really? What are we doing with it?"

"Eating it."

A few moments afterward, Travis stretched and sighed, patting his gut contentedly.

"That was perfect. How do I smell?"

"Awful."

"You too. Just as planned…"

He pumped his fists and got to work.


	6. Stakeout

It was a quiet night. The faint noises of crickets and livestock were the only sounds to be heard.

That and Marty throwing up in his mouth several times.

"I _really_ think we should've cut back on the garlic in that one. Over."

They were huddled together in a peculiar booth, muttering into two-way walkie talkies to each other and surrounded by rows of pipe openings and computer screens, broadcasting footage from all over the village.

"But that's exactly why we did it! Imagine how a vampire would react if _you're_ already-"

"I understand the rationale, it's just really bad."

"You have to end by saying 'over', Marty. Over."

"Fine! I understand the rationale, it's just really bad _over_. Why are we even using walkie-talkies, we're right next to each other."

"Marty, if you keep talking after you say 'over', you're not actually over. Over."

"Oh for goodness sake. Over."

"And to answer your question, Marty, we might get separated in our vampire hunting tonight. We should have a way to keep in touch. Also, you don't exactly smell like daisies yourself. Over."

"The garlic was _your_ idea, so I'm still blaming you. Over."

The cow on the screen mooed gently.

"Hold that thought. What you got on the pony, Marty?"

"Nothing so far. Just sleeping right now."

"Alright. Nothing on the cow, either."

"Okay."

The two sat in silence for a while.

"Sooo, how did you start traveling, Mr. Travis?"

"Hm? What? Sorry? Oh yeah, well if we're being completely honest, I started as a young lad just like you. I was a sheepherder, actually. Not a bad job. Long stretches of green pasture…absolutely beautiful."

He sighed theatrically.

"Then one day a large manticore came down and stole a lamb. The villagers were terrified: we'd never fought any monsters before… So I set out, my rod in hand, and began hiking up the mountain."

He gazed wistfully off into the distance.

"And when I got to the top, goodness the view was magnificent. Absolutely glorious. You could see stretches of mountain range, plains, and forest. And then down there, a little speck, was the village. Only then did I realize…just how _big_ the world was, and how little of it I was seeing from my little microcosm in the villages…"

Marty was silent.

"And then I got mauled to death by the manticore and never saw my family again- ulp. We got something."

"What? Where?"

"Waddles the pig, on screen 2."

"Waddles?"

"Heard it on a show somewhere, I'm sticking with it."

On the screen, the newly christened runt piglet lay sound asleep, and all seemed normal.

"I don't see anything."

"The flatuloculus definitely sees something there. Better safe than sorry. Well, huff and puff, Marty!"

"Wha- me?!"

"Yup! You go first!"

"Aw jeez, alright then."

Marty closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then clamped his mouth over a pipe and unleashed a massive, magnificent belch into it. The burp rumbled through the tubing, winding through the twisty pipe, festering, seething, and raging.

It emerged from the pipe with a deafening URRRRRRRP, reverberating about the barn house it had been led into, sending Waddles flying into the air, squealing in terror.

Unbeknownst to Marty, the garlicky fumes also rendered the nearby invisible vampire comatose.

"Ha! Got 'im!" Travis pumped his fists, "Come on Marty, off to kill a vampire!"

"What? Where?"

"Hemogoblin! He must have cast an invisibility charm, but he'll have to try harder if he wants to evade the flatuloculus! Mwah!" He blew a little kiss at the bizarre gizmo and burst out the door, enthusing.

Marty rose from his chair to chase after him excitedly. _I could really get into this! This is actually quite fun!_

A sudden movement caught his eye. He turned back, and his eyes widened.

On the monitor, a large spidery figure was busy wrapping up a pony in long strands of webbing.


	7. Many Many Last-Minute Saves

Marty raced down the dirt road, his heart pounding.

 _Must…save….ponies!_

He flung open the stable doors and threw himself inside.

Completely empty.

"oooOOOOAAAAAWWW!" Marty whine-screamed, clapping his hands to his head in anguish. Suddenly, the back of his neck prickled, and he whirled about.

"OOMPH!" he was sent flying into a wall by an enormous hairy spider leg.

Something chirped and ticked, and Marty looked up warily.

" _Little human_ …"

The vampire was enormous. Marty could hardly believe that he'd missed it the first time: a purplish human torso attached to a massive, bloated spider body that throbbed and pulsated with a sickly yellow glow. Behind it lay a large pony-shaped mass of webbing.

Marty was horrified.

"Wha-? Wha-? WHAAAAAA!"

" _Coming for you, child!_ "

The spider creature cackled maniacally before leaping forward, eight legs splayed out.

"AAAAAH!" Marty yelled, running as fast as he could, but the ground seemed to heave beneath him as the enormous arachnid bore down on him. He swerved and fell on the dirty hay.

He felt his hand land on the familiar handle of a pitchfork. Scrambling to his feet and hoisting it up, he turned about and howled before stabbing it blindly at the vampire.

The creature reared back, hissing.

" _You'll have to try harder than that…_ " it grinned. It stretched forward a claw-like talon, but Marty swiped again desperately with the pitchfork. This time it landed, with a satisfying _ping_ sound, knocking the claw away. Arachnovore scowled, then screeched; a nightmarish, alien noise that seemed to reverberate about the barn house.

Suddenly a loud crack and squelching noise followed by a shriek of pain rang out.

Arachnovore shuddered, then dissolved in a puff of grey smoke, leaving a disheveled Travis standing there, a wooden stake dangling at his fingertips and a greyish green, wrinkly figure draped over his shoulder.

"Now that…was something," he cracked a weak smile, "See why I got the walkie-talkies now, Marty?"

Marty's fingers loosened, and the pitchfork dropped soundlessly onto the soft hay. He crumpled to his knees and took a deep breath. His shoulders began shaking as he broke into hysterical giggling.

"Oh come on, that's just great. Calm down, Marty!"

Smack!

Even in his hysterical state, Marty's brain still remembered the consequences of _not_ calming down. He shakily sucked in another deep breath.

"There you go, that's it. Now Marty, could you gimme a hand here? Hemogoblin ain't exactly a light fellow-"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when an unseen force barreled into him, sending Travis tumbling head over heels into the hay with a loud, padded BUMPF sound.

"GET DOWN!"

An unearthly searing noise streaked by Marty.

"Wha- what do I do?"

"I said GET DOWN!"

Marty dove to the ground, hands over his head.

"Okay you know what, scratch that. Run, Marty! Run!"

A dark, guttural chuckle zoomed right by the farmer boy's ear, and Marty reared back shrieking.

"Anyone ever tell you that you sound like a girl when you yell like that, Marty?"

"Shut up, Mr. Travis! Help me!"

"I landed kinda funny, Marty! I think I sprained my ankle or something! You're on your own!"

"ooOOOAAAAAH!" he screamed.

Completely panicking by now, Marty was desperately whipping his head about to see where the blur was, when his eyes landed perfectly on the pitchfork.

"YES!"

Something streaked past, and the pitchfork was gone.

"NO!"

The Crimson Racer chuckled, his bizarrely deep voice reverberating.

" _Not so fast, young one._ "

Travis laughed, "HA! Geddit? 'Cause he's got superspeed? That's pretty – HUALP!"

The vampire shot across the room and had him pinned to the wall by the throat. Marty stepped forward hesitantly. It seemed to shimmer and blur right before their eyes, only vaguely humanoid, and emanating a dark red smoke-like substance.

It leaned in close.

" _I hold you responsible, traveler._ "

Travis gurgled, "For what?"

" _For the deaths of every single soul in this village. We hadn't planned to, but you have killed of our kind, and now you will pay dearly._ "

Its eyes glowed fiercely, and its head seemed to come apart, a massive fang-filled maw splitting its face in half, cracking sickly. Still shimmering, it leaned in closer for the kill.

"HAAAAAAWWWWW!" Marty howled as he sprinted toward it, flailing a milk pail wildly and cracking the vibrating figure on the head with a dull _pong_.

The undead creature hissed and whirled about, releasing Travis.

" _Do not come between a vampire and its pr-OW!_ "

Travis tackled the Racer to the ground, still choking horrendously.

"Marty (*cough*)! I've got him! Get the stakes!"

" _Cursed mortal! I will break you! I will turn you, and then I will subject you to tortures for all eternity! Unhand me!_ "

"What stakes, Mr. Travis?!"

"On my belt!"

"Got 'em!"

" _NOOOOOOOO!_ "

BOOM! FLASH! Everyone was thrown back against the walls by an unseen force again. Third time in Travis's case.

" _Ssssss! Hurry, brother!_ " Hemogoblin hissed, its hand still outstretched with a bright orb shining from it.

The Crimson Racer stood to its feet, casting one more venomous glance at Travis and Marty before streaking out of the door into the forest, taking Hemogoblin along.

And the night was still.


	8. A Moment of Respite and Remembrance

The mid-day sun shone down with pleasant warmth, and Marty snuggled deeper into his bed, snoring softly. With good reason, too, seeing that the previous night had been spent on stakeout followed by intense showdowns with the undead.

The village took it surprisingly well that morning once Travis had told them that they'd successfully gotten rid of one vampire without losing any livestock (the pony was carved out of the webs with a hunting knife).

"Hurrah! Three cheers for Travis the Traveler! HUZZAH! HUZZAH! HUZZAH!"

"Oh it's no problem, honestly! Just a bit of this and a bit of that, ha ha! But in all seriousness, just remember that we all gotta stay on guard: we still have three more vampires on the loose. Please don't do anything profoundly stupid! Travis out!"

Marty grunted in his sleep. Travis glanced at him, and then returned to staring wistfully out the window at the sun-bathed fields.

 ** _Ha! What a couple of days, huh? I told you this would be fun_**.

 _Yeah, it's actually not as bad as I'd thought._

 ** _You just gotta relax, Travis! Stop worrying all the time and just go out there and do what you do best! Hunt down some undead, kill a spider-centaur thingy, go pick up some women…_**

 _What is it with you and picking up women? When did this start? I don't do that._

 ** _Maybe you don't but I do._**

 _Yeah well this isn't your body._

He shook himself. The children outside chattered intently under the bright noon sun, and Travis smiled a little.

Suddenly the image of small living candies came to mind, rejoicing and dancing gleefully with childlike innocence. And in the distance there loomed the tall towers, of candy and sugar. And all the way on the top, at the balcony, with a grace and beauty unique to her, out would come –

Travis's smile widened and then faltered.

Marty muttered unintelligibly, and Travis turned to look at him again.

The boy's bravery hadn't gone by unseen. Travis remembered the slightly watery (justifiable, seeing that he was being strangled by a superhuman vampire) image of Marty charging forward, milk pail in hand. He chuckled to himself.

"I look forward to working with you, kid," he said softly, "We're gonna go all over the world together, you and me."

Marty smiled absently in his sleep, said, "Woof" sleepily, and rolled over. Travis hesitantly reached out and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before standing to his feet and walking out the door.


	9. Undead Announcement

Travis took a generous bite of sandwich, sighing contentedly.

"This is a tasty sandwich," he said through a mouthful of bread and smoked meat.

The lady smiled, "Thanks, I just kind of threw something together, and here we are!"

"Mhm, oh and the bread is just so nicely toasted so as to have that perfect crunch…you ought to start a restaurant, you know?"

"Oh, you're just saying that!"

"Yes I am."

"…"

"No wait that's not right," he swallowed, "I mean I'm _not_ just saying that. You're quite the cook!"

"I see. Thanks again," she laughed a little, "So what are you up to 'round these parts, brave hero?"

"Just traveling mostly," he said, taking another bite, "Got all this time on my hands, thought I might as well just go out there and see the world! Can't be too terrible, eh?"

"Really? So you're just a traveler?"

"Yeah pretty much. Picked up quite a lot of skills on my journeys though, so I like to help wherever I can."

"I see," she nodded slowly, "When did you start traveling?"

"Oh that's a funny story," he chuckled, swallowing, "So I was a fisherman's boy on a little secluded island. Every now and then, there'd be this humongous ship that'd come in, filled with goods and all the nastiest kinds of people. There'd be cutthroats, drunkards, swindlers, bounty hunters, and on one occasion businessmen."

Travis shuddered.

"Goodness those businessmen scared me to death. But what I'd wanted to be above all else was an _adventurer_!" At this, he leapt to his feet excitedly, "You should have seen them! Strapping, heroic, powerful men and women! People with such amazing capabilities and such noble hearts. And me, such a young, impressionable boy, all I'd wanted since I first lay eyes on them was to one day have a boat and a crew of my own to travel the seas with! So one day, I-"

FWOOSH! Travis found himself standing outside at the village square, amidst a crowd of equally rattled and jarred villagers all gathered around a podium, caught in a moment of intense confusion.

"Right in the middle of a sentence, too, goodness," Travis grumbled irritably.

" _Ladies and gentlemen,"_ a familiar garbled voice growled out.

The villagers gasped, some screamed. Standing atop the platform was the distorted, blurred figure of the Crimson Racer.

" _I have gathered you all here with the intention of telling you all that I do not hold the people of this village responsible for the slights made against me and my kind._ "

Suddenly, a multitude of goblin-like vampires appeared, surrounding the crowd. The Hemogoblins hissed in tandem, and the sky darkened, a great black cloud eclipsing the sun.

" _The crimes you have committed against the Coven of Cleansing are grievous, for you have not only conspired against us, but have murdered two of my very own brethren,_ " it cast its glowing, blood-red eyes downward at the ground, as if in mourning.

At this, Travis frowned.

" _Yet we do not hold you responsible,_ " it glanced up again.

The crowd waited with baited breath.

" _You were scared, you knew not what to expect, and so in your fear you hastily placed your trust in a complete stranger._ "

"Oh dear," Travis muttered to himself.

" _A stranger who not only has committed such horrific crimes against my family, but also has poisoned the minds of the very youth of this village against my kind, and against peace and order._ "

It streaked off the podium and returned clutching a battered, bloody Marty by the arm. The crowd gasped.

The Racer's shaded face split into a grin, " _Spare the rod, spoil the child._ "

It cast Marty to the ground and kicked him off the stage.

" _But no more blood need be spilt, ladies and gentlemen. I call for no more struggle, no more strife between our kind, but only if you bring to me the head of the one you call Travis the Traveler. Until then, there will be no peace. We will return each night, and the next night, and the next. And each time we return, one of you will die in his stead. Think on it, ladies and gentlemen, is it worth it?_ "

With that, it vanished, leaving only a trail of burnt wood and grass leading to the distant forest. The Hemogoblins flickered and disappeared as well.


	10. To Butcher a Lamb

"It makes no sense, how can we have killed _two_ of them? We got rid of one vampire, one!"

"AAAOooooow! Travis, can we talk about this later?! I-I'm in a lot of pain right now!"

"Oh right, sorry Marty. Hold on a sec, almost finished."

Travis squinted as he dripped a bright red substance carefully into a beaker of steaming clear fluid. Stirring it a little, he blew on it a few times and loaded it into a syringe.

"Hold still."

He pushed the needle into Marty's arm and pulled the trigger. Marty's eyes bugged out, and he made a few high-pitched squeals.

"There! All better! How do you feel now, Marty?"

"Ack-bleckableckableckfrrrrrrrrrrrrddddddddddddmilkingdogs-AAHOO!" Marty jumped up as if electrocuted. His cuts and bruises faded away, and he smiled broadly.

Travis blinked, "…Well that's never happened before. Can we talk now?"

"Uh…sure yeah. What was going on with all those extra Hemogoblins? I thought there was only one?"

"Yeah there is. Careful manipulation of light waves. He is the spell master, remember? It's actually a pretty darn easy spell, I could whip one up right now."

"Oh, okay," Marty rubbed his neck wearily, "I kinda blacked out toward the end. What did they say – oh hey, where are we right now?"

He looked around confusedly.

"This isn't my house."

"Um…." Travis rubbed his hands together nervously, "We're in the Engram. I don't usually let in guests, but I felt like making a bit of an exception this time. Welcome to my brain, Marty."

"What?!" he wheeled around, "We're in your brain?"

"Kind of sort of. It's kind of similar to this old wizard technique of entering a memory through sleeping powder, but also plus a little Door Lord-style gadgetry. Pretty proud of it actually. What do you think?"

Marty glanced around. They were in an enormous hall, filled with shelves and shelves of massive glass orb-like structures.

"Whoa, are these your memories?"

"Hmmmm yes and no. Not important right now. I'm afraid time still passes in the real world, and we gotta get to the Coven of Cleansing before the next day."

"The what of what?"

"To be honest, I don't really know either. Sounds vaguely familiar, but from what I can gather, a group of special vampires formed this fancy little club that they call the 'Coven of Cleansing'. Sounds real pretentious if you ask me."

"Sooo what's happening the next day?"

"They said they were going to kill someone each day they didn't hand over my decapitated head. Now since I'd rather not have to go through all that, I'm trying to find a way around it, but this means we gotta figure it out before the next day, 'cause they're gonna start killing. But don't worry! We're gonna get them, Marty!"

"WHAT?!"

"I said don't worry, Marty! We'll get them!"

"Wait but are they _starting_ tomorrow?"

"Well um…." Travis stopped.

"Oh my glob, Mr. Travis did you never consider that someone's probably going to die _tonight_?!"

"No I didn't, but hey, all the more reason to hurry! Crimson Racer left a trail for us to follow, so lets get going!"

He fumbled with his many pockets before reaching into his breast pocket and retrieving a long golden key. Twisting it in front of him, a dark blue door popped into existence around it, and he pushed it open slightly, peering through the crack.

Outside, the village was all a hustle and bustle. Men raced back and forth, flourishing blazing torches over their heads and shouting to each other.

"Still looking for me, then huh? Come on, Marty we'll need to make a run for it."

The village chief marched past the doorway, and frowned.

"Anything there, Jenkins?!"

"No sir, Chief! He's gone with the boy too!"

"You find them, Jenkins! The vampires could be here any minute!"

Then grumbling under his breath, he strode away. Travis's eyes darted back and forth, calculatingly.

"Alright, Marty. Let's get going."

He pulled the key out and pushed his way through the door, Marty quick behind him. The door snapped shut behind them and folded into itself, disappearing.

The two of them crouched behind a haystack, the harried shouts of the villagers disappearing into the distance.

"Okay, so can you see the podium?"

"Yes, Mr. Travis."

"Alright, are the burn marks from our Racer friend still there?"

"Yeah they lead directly out into the woods."

"Good, great. Perfect. We just need to follow it and find their lair."

"Okay. Wait why do we need to find their lair? Isn't that exactly where they want us to go? Won't they be waiting there?"

"No, they're probably stalking their prey right now. It's late, almost midnight, so they'll make their kill soon."

"What?!" Marty whisper-shouted.

"What what?"

"Aren't we going to stop them?!"

"Marty, think about it, there's two of them. One of them has invisibility and magic spells, the other has super-speed and eloquent speechmaking capabilities. We don't stand a chance without preparation."

"Are you kidding me? That's terrible! We gotta stop them-"

"Marty, I want you to listen to me! They're going to target one completely random individual. I've lost my flatuloculus, we have no way of knowing who they're going to pick, and no time to stop them even if we did. So the best course of action is to. Find. Their. Lair. Find their lair and lay a trap there so that when they come back to sleep in the morning, they find themselves bathing in sunlight. They'll be burned to a crisp. It's our only chance, Marty."

"But someone's going to die-"

"Yeah? Well, he'll be taking one for the team."

"How can you say that, Mr. Travis?! A life's a life! If one is threatened, we ought to do everything we can to protect it! We're staying here, Mr. Travis!"

"Oh you want to talk about sanctity of life? What about that spider-vampire, huh? I saved your life that time by stabbing it right in the butt! I sure didn't hear any condemnation from you then! What about the pigs you regularly turn into sandwiches? What about all the men out and about right this instant trying to decapitate me? No, life's only precious when it's convenient for you, and when it isn't – pew, right out the window it goes. You never feel sorry for butchering a lamb, Marty."

"A human life isn't the same as a sheep's life, Mr. Travis! How can you just compare everyone to pigs and sheep like that? It's disgusting!"

"You know what's more disgusting? Civilized, dignified snobs like the idiots that run your village! Social predestination? Sanctity of life? It's hilarious! Laughable! Over four billion years of wandering around the world, and you know what I see? I see this frail little system of 'civilized decency' and 'goodness' arise once every thousand years, stumble about a few steps, then come crashing down every time things get just a little too rough for it. The status quo you see here? It's a joke! A giant, _hilarious_ , laughable joke!"

The villagers were still.

Travis's face was contorted with rage, his eyes wide and gleaming. Marty was shocked.

A villager sneezed.

Travis looked up, his anger gone, and saw the small crowd surrounding them now, torches in hand.

"Uh…..hello, everyone! Out for a midnight stroll?" he smiled weakly.

The chief stepped forward.

"Travis the Traveler."

"Present," he grumbled.

The chief paused.

"Take Marty and get to Barty's cottage. He's got some stuff ready for you there, and he's vampire-proofed it already. You'll be safe in there until you're ready."

Travis looked up surprised.

"Go on. Get there as fast as possible. The vampires could be here any moment."

Travis stood to his feet before him, staring. He was silent for a moment.

"Thank you."

With that, under the flickering light of the villagers' torches, Travis and Marty rushed toward the cottage.


	11. Siege

The chief gazed after them as they ran. He cleared his throat and stepped onto the podium.

"Are we all ready, men?" he turned to the assembled villagers. They all nodded awkwardly.

"Good? We all good? Good," he took in a shaky breath, "Travis the Traveler doesn't believe that we will stand by our word. He thinks us cowardly and mercurial. But this night, we stand together, and prove that even in a time long past the age of man, in a time of dragons and vampires, humanity will not fade away. Humanity's honor will not fade away. We stand together on this night in the name of the honor of mankind!"

The villagers hoisted their torches and bellowed, and the chief nodded satisfied, "Nailed it!"

Meanwhile, in the cottage, Marty sat huddled on a stool, occasionally casting wary glances at the pensive Travis, who simply stood leaning against the wall, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace as the impish Barty rummaged through a massive suitcase.

 _Why do you make me say these kinds of things?_

 ** _Because it's what we believe, Travis. Simple honesty, is that so much to ask for? Ha!_**

A storm cloud rolled over the moonlight, and the sky was momentarily filled with the blinding glare of lightning. The villagers hefted their pitchforks nervously.

 _It isn't true. I know it isn't true, and I don't want Marty to believe it to be true._

When the lightning subsided, the dark, blurred figure of the Crimson Racer stood on top of the podium beside the Chief.

 ** _Well a bit late for that, isn't it?_**

The vampire cocked its head, " _Well, chief? I don't see a head in your hands."_

The chief drew a deep breath, "We will not give him to you."

" _No? Well isn't that tragic._ "

"NOW!"

Suddenly the podium exploded in a blast of garlic fumes. The chief broke away retching, but the vampire crumpled to the ground screaming horribly in pain.

 ** _Huh, you know the funny thing about honor? In today's delightfully perilous world, so many have abandoned their honor in the name of survival. And those that didn't, well, they simply disappeared without a trace._**

The villagers charged forward, jabbing indiscriminately with their pitchforks. A bolt of lightning blasted down, and they were thrown back with tremendous force. Hemogoblin howled triumphantly.

 ** _It's simple science, Travis. Natural selection. The world doesn't allow for the survival of honor._**

The Racer stood to its feet. It laughed a horrid metallic, warped cackle, and its body began to crackle with strange dark crimson flames.

 _What a disturbed worldview you have._

There was a frenzy of movement, and in an instant, the village was still.

Something prodded Travis's leg. He glanced down.

The impish Barty was nudging him with a rolled-up parchment, glaring at him from under his bushy eyebrows.

"You found what you were looking for, Bart?"

Nudge.

"Okay alright."

Travis reached down and snatched up the scroll, holding it against the fire to see it better.

"…why are you showing me this, Barty, it's from centuries ago."

Barty shook his head and sneezed angrily.

Travis raised an eyebrow, "…you know I don't speak sneeze, right?"

Barty looked down sadly.

Travis shrugged, and gazed at the faded parchment intently.

"Oh now that's interesting…" his eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise, "oooooOH hot dog, Marty! We're in business!"

Marty shot up, "WHAT WHAT WHAT'S HAPPENING."

"Were you asleep?! Get your head in the game! Look!"

Marty scrambled over to Travis's side, craning his neck to read. There on the browned parchment was an old town map. Marty recognized a few familiar landmarks, including the few noticeable hillsides, but it was mostly alien to him.

"W-what is this, Travis?"

"It's a town map of this very village from over a hundred years ago! I'm talking eons ago! And look! A _hospital_! Right where the forest is today! And guess what they did there …"

There marked by a tab was written the faded words, "Blood Donors Welcome!"

"Okay! So…is that probably where the vampires live?"

"It's a blood bank, Marty! Of course there's probably nothing left in there by this day, but when you've got a vampire problem and you hear that a blood bank used to be here, then Glob-damn you've gotta investigate! Ooooh yes! They've got the distance from the town labeled here too! With a little fine-tuning I can figure out the coordinates! Just get me a pen and paper!"

He excitedly whirled about, coat tails flying. Scribbling viciously on a small sheet of paper, he occasionally cursed and sent a few pieces of graphite flying from the table.

"YES! LET'S DO IT, BABY!"

He reached into his coat and pulled out a silver key, tossing it into the air.

Marty gazed in wonder as it unraveled in mid-air into a full-sized door.

"Door Lord tech. Though technically they owe at least 75% of the patent to me. Let's go!"

He dove through the doorway headfirst.

"Come on, Marty!"

"Aw man, okay hold on."

Marty braced himself, then readied himself to jump through before stopping and turning to glance at Barty.

The old man was sitting forlornly on his stool, tears building up in his eyes.

Marty paused, looked to the doorway, then walked back to the dwarfish man, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering a slight nod.

"Marty, you coming or what? There's some real interesting stuff I want to show you here!"

"Alright, coming Mr. Travis!" he yelled back before turning to Barty again, "We'll talk later."

He took up a small metal spade, turned, and raced through the door, determined.


	12. Some Answers

"Whoa, this is huge."

"You darn right it is, look at this place! I must have gotten us precisely into the basement! I'm a genius! HA!"

"Hey, Mr. Travis, don't you think we should be a little – you know, quieter?"

"Um…yeah, you're probably right. Sorry, it's just that this place seems kinda fun to me for some reason. I've got a nice feeling about it, ya know? Must be the good-natured atmosphere of the place."

"Uh…"

They were surrounded by darkened hallways, lit up by only occasional peeks of moonlight. It was almost completely silent, save for a few dripping noises. Marty shuddered.

"Yeah, must be."

"You don't sound very sincere, Marty. Oh look, something's comin' up!"

A bright orange glare emanated from down the hallway, and as they drew nearer, the faint sound of cackling and growls echoed. Travis glanced back at Marty. He raised a finger to his lips.

"Remember, Marty, subtlety is key when you're stealthing. You must become one with the darkness, a shadow, the little motion always at the corner of your eye. You must become… _the Batman!_ "

"What?!"

"SHHHH, MARTY!"

"Sorry."

"In the ancient legends of the land before the Great Mushroom War, there were myths, rumors, urban legends of a mysterious person, known only to the world as…. _the Batman!_ "

"….why are you telling me this, Mr. Travis."

"I have no idea, this place is getting to me. Making me remember totally irrelevant things I've long since sent to the Engram."

"Huh?"

" _WHO GOES THERE?!"_

"Oh for goodness's sake. Hemogoblin must be back already."

" _SSSSS. I CAN SMELL YOU."_

"Marty, quick! The Engram!"

Travis fumbled with his coat pockets and retrieved the golden key. Plunging it into the air, he twisted it, and the familiar dark blue door materialized. Taking Marty by the hand, he dove in, and the door snapped shut and vanished.

"WOOT! How's that for an escape plan? Ha-HA!" Travis pumped his fists and breathing in the rich musty smell.

"Alright, Mr. Travis, I can't take this any more! Time for some explanations! Just _what_ is this place, who are you, and how do you have over four billion years worth of knowledge?"

"I'll get back to you, Marty, but we've got some other things to worry about. Like why does this hospital remind me of Batman? The whole place is starting to give me weird vibes. Hold on, let me check something."

He turned and made an upward gesture with his hands, and an enormous computer emerged from the ground with a rumbling noise. Marty's jaw dropped.

Travis tapped rapidly on the keyboard, muttering, "Alright, let's see. Control F, 'hospital' and 'blood donors'….nope nope nope, too far back. Aaaaaand here we go!"

The screen flashed, and a large picture of a foreboding-looking medieval-style castle appeared, with massive steel letters spelling out, "Arkham Hospital".

"Ha! Got it! This place used to be called 'Arkham Hospital'! No wonder it reminded me of Batman. Now let's just plug in a few extra terms…"

"Uhhh, Mr. Travis? What is this?"

"It's a search engine, Marty, a compiled database of all of my memories contained in the Engram. I've lived a long life, Marty. Over four billion year's worth of wandering the primordial Earth is enough to accumulate massive volumes of data and information, as well as drive yourself totally insane and possibly cause your head to explode. Now since I value my sanity, I've got it all tucked away in here for easy access without it constantly nudging me in the back of my mind every waking moment. A-ha!" he enthused, "It appears I have been in this very hospital before, many years ago. Actually not too long ago. A little under a hundred years, in fact. Huh. Funny how memory archiving can mess with your head. Now if we-"

"Y-you're actually four billion years old?!"

"More actually, but not important. Now why does this bother me so much…vampires…..hospitals…..Ooo…."

Marty leaned against a nearby bookshelf for support, his eyes wide.

He couldn't believe it. He was standing next to a man old enough to have walked the primordial earth. Or at least someone who'd seen the world before the Mushroom War. He glanced over the endless shelves of glass orbs with new interest. Over four billion years worth of knowledge laid out just before him!

Behind him, Travis was muttering some ancient profanity under his breath and tapping rapidly on the keyboard. Still in an amazed stupor, Marty's hand reached out, and his fingers curled around a small crystal sphere in its niche on the shelf, and it hummed softly. He pulled it out gently with a mechanical clicking sound, and peered into it.

There was a bright pink lady in a faded lab coat, saying something excitedly as she delicately poured a slender tube of some green fluid into a beaker and stirred. She turned to face Marty, a brilliant smile on her face. She nodded a few times, as if Marty was speaking to her, and she giggled. Finally, she lifted up the beaker and poured it over a small cream puff lying on the counter. Before Marty's eyes, it began swelling, and contorting, as if it were breathing. She turned to Marty one more time, and-

A hand gripped his wrist.

"That's quite enough of that, Marty," Travis said softly.

Marty turned to him, "Who is she?"

Travis took the orb from his hand, glanced at it, and placed back into the niche on the shelf, twisting it back into place.

"No one of importance. What is important is that I know now what happened at the hospital all those years ago. And even more importantly, I know now that we have made a very serious mistake. Come."

Still pulling him by the wrist, he dragged Marty toward the computer monitor.

"I've downloaded the necessary memories back into my head, but I think you ought to see this too. Recognize anyone?"

On the screen was the familiar sight of the hospital halls, only much cleaner.

"…no."

"Anyone?"

"What's going on here anyway, are you basically just pointlessly wandering through this hospital?"

Suddenly, a slightly portly, bearded young man leapt into view with his arms out, waving wildly at the screen.

"What the-"

"Let me turn the sound up, Marty."

The man on the screen dropped his arms, laughing now. The audio was on full volume now, and Marty could hear the man on the monitor boisterously guffawing.

"…HAHAHA, gotcha Travis!"

Travis's voice emanated from the speakers.

"Dammit, Barty what's wrong with you!"

"Oh yeah, I got you good, man!"

Marty's jaw dropped. Again. He rubbed his eyes and looked closer.

In a strange way, the man onscreen did resemble a younger version of Barty.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"No come on, it wasn't that bad."

Here, Barty slugged screen-Travis's shoulder.

"Yeah, okay fine. So what did you want to show me?"

At this, Barty's face sobered.

"So you remember that thing you came up with?"

"A secret language based entirely on belching and sneezing? You did it?!"

Barty frowned.

"What? No, that's a stupid idea. I'm talking about…"

His voice hushed a little and he drew nearer, whispering.

"…I'm talking about the rehab group idea?"

Screen-Travis seemed to get it. Marty turned to look at real-world-Travis, who simply stared stonily ahead.

"The rehab idea? Did you really do it?"

"Yeah, Travis! A rehabilitation support group exclusively for vampires seeking redemption from human blood-drinking! We've already got like four vamps on board with us, man! This could really take off!"

"Oh wow, Bart…you really did it, huh? Are they right through this door?"

"Yes they are! And man, I've gotta introduce you, they'll love you!"

Screen-Travis glanced to the floor.

"Bart….when I came up with the idea, I came up with it for you. When we first met, I took you along for a crazy ride all around Ooo, but I also took you from your village. Your home. Your _life_ , Barty. This vampire rehab support group idea is entirely meant for you. This is your baby. So _cherish_ it. It's yours."

Barty looked crestfallen.

"W-well yeah, but Travis, won't you stay and help?"

"That's the thing, Bart. I don't think I will. I've taken up so much of your life already with our jaunts all around the world, and uh _yeah_ you've seen some things out there. Things I wouldn't wish on anybody."

Screen-Travis clapped a hand onto Barty's shoulder.

"You stay here, Barty. You go on and live life the way it's meant to be lived. Not the insanity I dragged you into."

The image on the screen veered off to the side, and Screen-Travis appeared to be leaving, walking down the hall.

Barty's voice called out from the side, "Will you at least say hi to them?"

"Nah. I don't like vampires!"

"What about Bloodlurker, he's here too!"

"Goodnight, Barty."


	13. Confrontation

The screen paused. Real-life-Travis drew a deep breath and sank into a chair (curiously labeled Ikea) he'd summoned from the ground.

"Barty started the group, and got things rolling alright. But he didn't last long. It wasn't the vampires or anything, they were anxious to start doing…whatever it was Barty had them do. But Bart simply didn't have the heart. He told me later, that as soon as the Crimson Racer was willing to assume leadership, he'd simply left, and returned to live in the village permanently."

Travis sighed.

"I was stupid. I gave him one more push to go back to them, said a few rushed goodbyes, and left after I wiped the last few centuries and stored them away down in here."

Marty was silent.

"So what's this mean, Mr. Travis?"

Travis shifted in his chair, "It means that we're after the wrong people. The Coven's a rehab group, they would never outright attack the villages."

"B-but they just did! We saw them do it-"

"We saw them do it _after they'd already lost someone._ "

Marty frowned, "Huh?"

"I don't know what happened, but they mentioned tonight that we'd killed _two_ of them. I'd imagine they mean Arachnovore and Bloodlurker, but we never touched Bloodlurker. He was fine when he left us that night."

As Travis spoke, his computer lit up with images of the vampires.

"Didn't he attack you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't kill him! He was fine that night, and the next – fwoosh! Gone! The Coven thinks we did it, but here's the weird bit: when Barty first recruited me here at the village to go after the evil, he mentioned that it had _recently_ moved in."

"Um…"

"The vampires have been here since all those years ago. So who was it that Barty sensed? My theory-"

He pointed dramatically at the image of Bloodlurker on the screen.

"…Bloodlurker's killer."

Marty rubbed his eyes.

"But the raids on the village…"

"Marty, we'd 'killed' one of their support group members. Rehabilitated or not, they're still a vampire coven, and if you mess with one, you're messing with all of them."

Marty clapped a hand to his head, "Oh man…"

"Your mind's getting blown right now, isn't it?"

"Oooooh-weeee."

"Yeah well don't get too caught up in it, we've still got a village to save, and I'm pretty sure Hemogoblin's gone from the hall now."

The chief grunted as he was thrown unceremoniously into his cell. He scrambled to his feet and turned to face the Racer, staring defiantly into the glowing red.

The vampire cocked its head, " _Why did you do this, Chief?_ "

The chief scowled, "Because you are a threat to us. You are an invader."

A rhythmic, distorted laugh sounded from the Crimson Racer, " _I have been here for almost a hundred years now. My family and I settled here decades ago with the help of your own people, and now I am a threat?_ "

The chief's face was shining with sweat now, and he blinked in confusion.

The vampire chuckled, " _I see you know nothing. No matter. You have chosen to set yourself against the coven, and for that you will die._ "

It raised a distorted claw into the air slowly, and reached toward the chief's chest.

"See that really doesn't help your case, Mr. Racer."

The shimmering figure wheeled around. Standing there silhouetted against the torchlight down the hall was the figure of a top hat-toting, gangly man.

" _What?_ "

"To prove that you aren't a threat. You're doing a terrible job."

The Racer grit its teeth in a monstrous grin, " _Travis…so after all this, you chose to turn yourself in?_ "

"Nah."

" _Thought not._ "

It struck lightning-fast, but ran into nothing but air.

" _What?!_ "

The vampire roared furiously. It squinted in the darkened hallway and growled. There! A flicker of movement! The Racer dashed forward, but hit nothing once again.

" _Where are you?!_ "

"Yoo-hoo!"

It turned menacingly toward the mocking yodeling. Its jaw dropped.

Crammed tightly together in the hall was an entire crowd of Travis's.

"Light manipulation! May have heard of it! After all, your buddy Hemogoblin was pretty darn good at it."

The Racer glanced about in confusion, then scowled.

"Also did you know that Hemogoblin's named after a kind of protein? I think that's pretty hilarious."

The vampire roared, " _Did you kill him too?! You scum! You monster! Our people have lived in peace with this village for the past few decades, until you came and killed._ "

"Calm down, Hemogoblin's fine. He'll probably wake up tomorrow with a hangover though."

Flashback:

"…And so I said, 'how can someone who is just arriving herself possibly welcome me to a place we aren't even at yet?! Doesn't this violate some fundamental law of physics?! We're barely on the ground four seconds, she's coming around like the flubbing mayor's wife!' Get it?"

" _HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH._ "

"Yeah, you got it! Here have another drink."

" _Oh I really shouldn't, my wife's always getting on me for drinking anyway. But I sez to her, 'one rehab at a time, darling!' Heh heh heh!_ "

"Exactly! One rehab at a time! So here, have another drink!"

" _Hee hee okay._ "

Flashback End

The Crimson Racer roared and streaked across the hall, passing through mirage after mirage of smirking top hat-wearing Travis's.

" _I know you're here somewhere, I_ _ **heard**_ _you…_ "

"Good thinking! Unless I'm using a two-way radio walkie-talkie."

" _Got you!_ "

It crackled to the source of the sound, but found itself staring down a two-way radio walkie-talkie.

"I literally just warned you."

The Racer whirled about, and found itself standing in one of the cells. The cell door clattered shut, and the real Travis stepped into view. The door portal behind him snapped shut and vanished.

"That was a lot easier than I expected. Although the glowing red goggles probably make it more difficult to see, eh Racer?"

The vampire growled, " _Are you going to kill me too?_ "

Travis's face fell, "No. I don't know what's going on, but you're not the one I'm looking for. It's kind of complicated, and I don't have the time or patience to explain it right now. Stay tuned to the radio though, you'll hear all about what's been going on. Until then, toodles!"

He deftly turned to the adjacent cell, and with a delicate flourish, bashed the cell door lock with his walking stick until it broke off.

Travis grimaced, "Yeah, I could probably do with a bit more finesse."

The chief hurriedly shoved open the door.

"Thank Glob you're here, traveler," he said, brushing the dust off his sleeves.

"Where're the others?"

"The fighting men were all kept in the big cage in the lobby, you couldn't have missed it?"

"Eh, I came another way. But yeah, lobby. I'll check that."

"Where is Marty?"

"He's busy."

Marty grunted as he hefted the pails of vampire ash. He'd had to sweep up as much of it from the barn where they fought Arachnovore as physically possible, and now he was heaving it back to Barty's place.

He groaned as he pushed his way into the dingy cottage.

"Hey, Mr. Barty, I've got the vampire stuff."

Barty nodded absently as he scribbled viciously on a little piece of parchment.

Marty coughed, "I'll just set it down here then?"

He gingerly placed it down next to the seething cauldron by the fireplace. Barty suddenly sat up from his stool and waddled over before taking it up with both hands and up-ending it into the pot with little effort.

"Um…I see you've got this fine then, Mr. Barty?"

The old man said nothing, only grunting briefly and returning to his seat to scribble. Marty glanced at the pot. The mixture was beginning to congeal and thicken into an amorphous mass. Marty leaned forward and caught a whiff of it before reeling back retching. After catching his breath, he turned to the shorter man.

"Well…Mr. Barty, I uh…I heard that you and Mr. Travis used to travel together?"

The scribbling stopped.

"Well uh, I was just hoping that you could offer some advice? Some pointers maybe? Like, what to expect?" Marty asked sheepishly.

There was a moment of silence.

"If you want my advice, Marty, it is simply that you stay away from that man."

Marty started. Barty had never spoken to him before, and the old man's guttural, deep voice jarred him.

"I know what you're thinking. 'But Mr. Barty, he's such a heroic, kind man.' Don't believe it. I understand if you do, I once did too. But know this: Travis is a dangerous man. More dangerous than I ever understood until exactly three minutes ago. Those vampires have no idea…"

"Um…okay, does it help if he's promised not to kill them…"

"Humph. You know why I sent you two off to the vampires? I'd had my eye on them for a while now, and when I first sensed the great evil come to the village, I'd hoped against hope that it was them. But I know better now."

Marty stared, puzzled.

Barty turned to look at him, his eyes hidden under his bushy eyebrows.

"Marty, Travis is the great evil."


	14. More Announcements

Travis cleared his throat. Before him was a large assembly of all the villagers, squeezed into a massive makeshift cage in the hospital lobby. He smiled nervously to himself before taking up his walkie talkie.

"Alright, everyone, how are we all doing? Racer, you hear me too?"

The vampire crackled from the walke talkie, " _I hear you_."

The people booed, "JUST LET US OUT ALREADY."

"Yeah, no, that's not going to work, I'm afraid. I need to know you aren't going to run off and murder some vampires. See, this is kind of an awkward situation we've got here, since-"

"Oh no, the vampires have him under their spell! NOOO!"

"That is not what I was going to say."

The crowd muttered, agitated.

Travis rolled his eyes before proceeding, "Ladies and gentlemen, there's been a grievous misunderstanding. The coven of vampires near the village isn't our enemy; they've lived here for the past few decades in peace!"

The crowd roared in protest.

"But they attacked us! They're monsters!"

"They attacked us first because one of the vampires died, and it looked like we killed them. It was purely in self-defense!"

The crowd seethed, various voices shouting confusedly, "Jmchmuldfackyouashhole I don't care, vampires are monsters blah blah blahdofjwek."

Travis's face fell.

 _This is going to be more difficult than I expected_.

Marty blew out a sigh.

"I can do this. I carry heavy stuff all the time! Heh, I got this. I can carry this," he muttered to himself, sweat pouring down his face, "HNNNNNNNNNNNGH!"

His face scrunched up and reddened as he heaved the massive cauldron through the door portal, careful not to breath in the fumes emanating from the congealed blackened mass inside it.

Scowling, Barty followed him through the doorway, entering the darkened hospital halls, "Did you hear me, Marty? Travis is the great evil. All evidence points to it. The darkness only came to the village when he entered, and his presence emanates some powerful-"

"Shut up, Mr. Barty! That (ouch) doesn't make any sense! If he is some kind of ancient evil, why didn't you figure it out when you were traveling with him? Why doesn't the flatuloculus pick it up, huh? Why would he-"

"I understand, Marty. You're in denial. But think back: how much do you really know about Travis? All you know is that he has powerful magic and he's billions of years old. Can you really just take everything he says at face value?"

They walked past Hemogoblin, still snoring in the corner with an empty bottle of "red rum" in his left hand.

"But…but…." Marty stuttered.

"And did he ever come clean to you about what happened with Bloodlurker? What happened that night when you left and something happened? From what you've told me, all that you know is that someone screamed and then Bloodlurker was gone. How do you know that anything Travis told you was the truth?"

Marty blinked the sweat from his eyes and continued stepping precariously down the hall, cauldron in arms.

"So we made a big mistake. The vampires aren't the evil that Barty found, something else is here, and it is that something else that killed the vampire Bloodlurker and started this conflict, are we all clear?" Travis exasperatedly yelled.

The crowd simmered down a little now, and Travis relaxed.

" _But even if this is true, what will you do about Arachnovore?_ " the Crimson Racer's distorted voice crackled from the walkie talkie.

"I'm very glad you asked. As soon as Marty gets here, I'll show you."

An exhausted, lighter voice came in from behind the cage, "I'm here, Mr. Travis! I've got the cauldron!"

"What? I don't need the cauldron, just the thing in there."

"Oh…"

"That's okay, toss it here!"

"The cauldron?"

"No the thing in it."

"Okay."

 _Goodness, these people are burning me out_.

Marty tossed Travis the large, solid black ball from the cauldron, and he caught it with two hands before bouncing it on the floor several times.

He grinned and said into the walkie talkie, "Now Racer, this is my peace offering. We have taken the vampire ashes from the brother we killed, and have used it to engineer this embryo. Once you heat it, it will split open, and rapidly mature into the Arachnovore you know and love!"

There was a pause.

" _A clone? You offer us a clone of our brother in exchange for his life?_ "

Travis's smile faltered, "Is that not enough?"

" _I don't want some creature wearing my brother's face! I want my brother back!_ "

The sound of banging metal bars rang from the walkie talkie and from down the hall.

" _You have taken from us what cannot be returned! You have made an unforgivable slight against the Coven! You cannot and will not ever be forgiven! We will never stop chasing you, do you hear me? Never!_ "

The crowd heard this tirade, and quickly grew agitated once again. Not completely understanding what was happening, the people erupted in cries of "down with vampires!" and "death to the monsters!" The noise was deafening.

Travis's eyes closed, and he switched the radio off. He massaged his temples, and breathed deeply. Marty glanced up worriedly at him.

He was muttering under his breath, eyes still squeezed shut, "Stupid stupid stupid stupid…"

"Uh…Travis, are you okay?"

Travis turned, his eyes snapping back open.

"T-Travis, there's something you have to know about Barty-"

"Villagers! Ladies and gentlemen, lend me your ears!" a deep, richly reverberating voice rang out. Barty was speaking.

Travis rolled his eyes, muttering, "First he speaks for the first time in years, now he's quoting an ancient poet."

Marty's eyes widened, and he reached up to begin tugging on his pant leg, "Travis, we've got to go now!"

"While you have pursued this false enemy of vampires, while we were led to attack our own neighbors, a true enemy has been manipulating this village and its people. Upon further investigation, I have discovered the truth," Barty spoke calmly.

"Travis, just listen to me!"

"Okay, Marty, what do you want?"

"Barty says that you're the ancient evil in the village!"

"I have discovered that our very guest, Mr. Travis the Traveler, is the ancient evil in this village!"

The crowd hushed.

Travis looked up, his face stoic. Marty clapped his hands to his mouth.

The room was entirely silent now.

"As soon as he entered this village, I had detected his evil presence. I only had to be absolutely sure, and while he was away stirring up chaos with our own neighbors, I discovered the truth!"

Travis began slowly shaking his head. Marty glanced about nervously. Some of the villagers in the cage were beginning to rub their heads confusedly, but some were now glaring at the two of them.

"That's impossible," Travis whispered.

Marty broke into a smile and stuttered, "I know, yeah, but we need some way to prove it! The village has always trusted Barty's magic, there's no reason why they shouldn't now! How can we convince them-"

"You're right, Marty, I've got to go now."

He quickly wheeled about and dashed out the room.

"Wait wait wait, Mr. Travis! What are you talking about?"

Travis ignored him, and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a key and throwing it against the wall. It unfolded into a door portal, and the two of them leapt through.


	15. Don't be a Hero

A pensive Travis leaned against the wall, top hat dangling loosely from his fingertips.

 ** _Well well, what a troublemaker, huh? Looks like we should've just gotten rid of Barty the first time LIKE I SUGGESTED._**

 _Not now._

 ** _Huh, why didn't you stay to defend your case? Just going to let Barty rip up your reputation in front of all those ignorant, stupid peasant folk? You know they'll all believe him!_**

 _I was never planning to stay here long anyway, might as well._

 ** _Ah yes, how typical of you. Just run on and on and don't look back! No time to settle! No time to lament or brood! Just 'eyes on the road'! That'll do, Travis, that'll do…_**

Travis closed his eyes and slid down to the floor, suddenly overcome with weariness.

 _I'm tired of running all the time. We've been doing this for billions upon billions of years, nonstop. Just running endlessly. When can it stop? When can everything just, stop?_

His eyelids twitched a little.

 ** _Why don't you relax a little, Travis? Let me do the talking when the ol' mob of pitchforks and torches comes 'round for you._**

"Uh, Mr. Travis?"

"WHOA SWEET JESUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

"Sweet who?"

"MARTY, WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

"I-I followed you through the door portal? Anyway, w-we've got to clear your name, Mr. Travis!"

Travis's face softened, and he smiled.

"I appreciate it, Marty, but listen there's really no point. It'd be much easier for all concerned if we simply-"

"But the whole village will think you're evil! They'll never get to see you as a hero like you are!"

"Marty, remember when we first met all those years ago?"

"Wha-? We met like three days ago."

"Exactly. You don't know me, Marty, and I don't really know you either. In a few months neither of us will remember each other, I'll go back to traveling, you'll go back to farming, and all will be well."

"No! I'm not going back to farming! I can't stand cabbage any more! You were right, I don't want to live out the rest of my life in this place, I can't stand it! I want to see new lands and, and see new things!"

Travis raised an eyebrow, "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Marty?"

Marty took a breath, "Take me with you. You've already shown me this much, I want to see it all."

The tall man smiled softly, silent for a moment. Marty stood with baited breath, his fists clenched.

"…Alright," he said, nodding to himself, "let's do it."

Marty blew out a breath and smiled, "Yes! You won't regret this, Mr. Travis! We're going to see some crazy stuff, and it's going to be brilliant!"

Travis placed his top hat back on his head and leapt to his feet, "Okay, now first things first, help me grab some garlic from the kitchen, I need to refill my supplies. And maybe some pickled cabbage too, I've grown quite fond of it in my stay here. I'll plot out the next few coordinates and when we're ready we can take off!"

"Right, Mr. Travis! I'll get straight to it!"

He excitedly dashed to the kitchen pantry, and Travis winced a few times at the occasional sound of crashing pots and pans. He glanced briefly at his fob watch before snapping it shut and placing it back in his coat pocket. He stared thoughtfully into the corner of the wall before looking back up toward the direction of the crashing pots.

"Marty?"

A pause. "Yeah?!"

"When you're out there, seeing the world and enjoying the sights of strange lands, traversing mountaintops and drinking out of new streams, just remember…"

The next few words seemed to Marty to have been said in a strangely weary manner, as if billions of years of cheer and tragedy, hopes raised and dashed were speaking out to him.

"…Don't be a hero."

And then silence.

"…"

"Travis? Mr. Travis?" Marty could feel his heart thudding in his chest, "Mr. Travis, you there?"

He hurried back to the living room, but there was nothing there but the gentle breeze of the night air through an open window.


	16. Epilogue: That Night

The door opened, and a slender, well-dressed man slid in and shut it with a gentle flourish. He glanced at the nearly endless rows of shelves full of crystal balls of memory before proceeding inside.

Travis hung up his coat on the hanger he'd materialized beside him, and set his walking stick aside. He took of his hat and lazily tossed it to the side.

He snapped his fingers, and a soft recliner appeared behind him. Travis frowned and snapped again, and it was quickly replaced by a rigid wooden chair. Seating himself on it, he summoned up a desk and a large monitor before planting his face into his hands and rubbing his eyes tiredly. He peeked out from between two fingers at a small maroon button sitting on his desk, and he reluctantly pushed it. The endless shelves vanished, replaced by a single large bank vault.

The vault had not aged well: dents and spots of rust were visible, and there was a fine layer of dust accumulating on it. The only cause for great concern however was the fact that the dents were facing outward rather than in, almost as if something inside were trying to escape.

Travis stood to his feet and swept the desk away before walking directly up to the imposing metal vault door and knocking politely.

"I know you have it in there. Show me. Show me that night."

There was nothing but silence.

"I know what you did – what _we_ did. You ruined my chances here like you always do, but you could at least just _show me_?"

The vault was silent.

"Globdammit, Travis, just SHOW ME!" he roared and slammed a fist against the door.

A monitor appeared behind him, flickering to life. Travis turned to see.

 _Three days back…_

"…I-I'm going back home, Mr. Travis! And don't expect me to ever come back either! Good bye!" Marty yelled before turning on his heel and marching off into the night.

"Cor, someone's sensitive," the Bloodlurker muttered.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Travis agreed, sitting down more comfortably against the tree, "But ya know why the place is so dull, Lurky? It's because they've brainwashed the life out of these people! You would not believe it. I was just chatting with lil' Marty back there about what he wants to do with his life, and you know what he does?"

"O-ho lemme guess. He goes off on a rant about society and rules-"

"He goes off on a rant about- yes, exactly! Goodness, it totally bored my brains out of my ears. It's scary, really. You can totally tell when you're no longer talking to the boy, and you've started talking to some twisted form of indoctrination. It's terrifying."

"Huh, scarier than the Lich?"

"Ha, your Lich was terrible."

"Hey come on, now, the look was pretty good, right? I had you going there, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah the look was spot-on, but your voice? Seriously? The Lich doesn't have throat cancer, alright? He's not Batman or anything…"

"Okay, you lost me."

"Oh sorry, did I make another obscure ancient culture reference? Ah, I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay."

"Thanks."

"Mhm."

Travis paused. He frowned to himself and shook his head a little, knocking himself with a clenched fist. Bloodlurker glanced at him, worried.

"Is he still giving you hell?" he squeaked questioningly.

Travis pressed a knuckle against his temple, "Huh? Oh, yeah kind of. Was talking throughout my whole stay here, actually. Was really excited, too. Kept telling me to get together with some lady down at the village…"

"Huh. Well, that's not the worst thing an evil voice in your head could tell you to do. You should see me when I hit my bloodlust. Man, I just go crazy…"

"No no no, stop," Travis growled, raising up a hand.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. Hey speaking of which, have you kept to your only-animals rule?"

"Oh yeah, of course. The support group keeps me in check. But you know, the wild ones aren't always that good. Too gamey. Sometimes we just yearn for that domestic flavor, ya know? That's why we popped back to the village to see if we could bag a runt piglet or something, ya know?"

Travis nodded, not really listening. His eyes were clenched shut, and his knuckles were whitening.

"Yeah, a nice runt pig- hey, you sure you're okay there, Travis?"

"Yeah, it's just that…oh goodness, he's really angry this time, he's just screaming and screaming…"

"Huh, okay lemme see if I can help. OI! YOU! YEAH, YOU! KEEP IT DOWN, EH? TRAVIS IS TRYING TO TALK! Heh, did that help-"

Travis's arm lunged forward, catching the small, dwarfish man by the neck and slamming him to the ground. Then, keeping him pinned with one hand, he reached up with the other and snapped off a branch before stabbing it into the struggling vampire's chest.

Bloodlurker's eyes widened, then rolled up.

A chilling breeze blew past, rustling a few leaves.

Travis loosened his grasp on the branch, panting slightly. There was a faint reddish tint in his eyes, and his lips were pulled back in a rictus grin. He slowly turned his head to look at the full moon, and he stretched out his arms, as if to embrace the bright disc in the night sky.

Maddened laughter rang out through the woods, and then all faded to black.


End file.
